Genetic Emancipation
by ko-drabbles
Summary: In the not too distant future, everything went to hell. Kaoru and Hikaru rob graves for a living, Kyoya's worth about the sum of his parts, Tamaki's genetics are a b-tch; and that's not even the half of it...
1. The Twins' Story

In the not too distant future, everything went to hell.

That wasn't even an opinion that was divided, the air and water thick with pollution and the face masks that used to be worn were exchanged for oxygen tanks and gas masks. The world grew sick, and as the clouds above turned a noxious black, people started to drop like flies.

There was a wide-spread epidemic of organ failures, demand far outweighing the supply, and there were many casualties. Those with the most money, and the most power, got priority. That was the way of the world after all, and the ones at the top would always win, no matter what; maybe that was how even the air turned poisonous.

Still, two lonely boys torn from their parents by this horrific tragedy had no hope; not with them both being too young, and Kaoru much too sick. It'd almost given Hikaru a heart attack when his younger brother collapsed, clutching at his abdomen in pain, but it wasn't like they could even hope to be seen without the money to pay for it. Soon, Kaoru could end up like the bodies that lay in the road until the correct authority could clean them up, the stink always seeming to linger in the city streets. He couldn't accept that.

Instead, Kaoru lay in their shared bed, sweating through his pyjamas, as Hikaru went out, trying to save his brother. The thing was, when these things happen, submarkets bud and grow. The hospitals weren't helping? Well, if there were buyers, you would attract all kinds of sellers.

He was only a kid, but as he cut open some corpse's chest cavity, its still, cold blood staining his hands, there was an odd sense of righteous calm that overtook him. It was a feeling of need, of _this has to be done_. He knew what it could do to people, but he didn't care; they weren't _Kaoru_. He hung around back alleys, sold organs and his own blood, whatever he could get his hands on. He had nightmares, but with his pocket full of money to take Kaoru to a bleeding heart of a back-alley doctor; the sickly boy slung over his shoulder.

"It's his pancreas," Akira had said, his far-too-stoic son perched next to him in case they tried to run off without paying, "He's going to need a transplant, I'm afraid. I… I shouldn't do this, but the Ootori company have just brought out organ financing… You boys are too young for it now without parents, but I can use my name and –"

"Dad…" The other boy warned, giving Hikaru a foul look that made him shrink back in his seat. Still, his mind ticked over his options. _Organ financing_ , it didn't sit well with him, especially with Morinozuka-san's offer; some instinct told him a flat **no** , and in his experience, it was best to listen.

"What if I get it?" He asked, an edge of desperation in his voice, "Then… You could do something, right? I just… I can't… But I _can_ get you organs, I promise. Kaoru can't die!"

It was a reluctant agreement, but still. He had to try and get a perfectly healthy pancreas, and that was easier said than done. He swore that the smell of gore and sinew was burned into his sinuses, but when Akira helped Kaoru up so they could both go home, his brother recovering but _healthy_ , it was all worth it.

* * *

Hikaru huffed, pulling his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. It was bad enough that he had to see Kyoya fucking Ootori in person, without seeing his glossy picture on the cover of trashy magazines, pulling the collar of his shirt down and showing off that long, jagged scar down his chest with a seductive look someone like him just shouldn't do. That new, designer heart was only supposed to save his life, but it seemed everyone was talking about it like it was done for their twisted sense of _being beautiful inside and out_.

He just wanted to get home, because even after years of this, he supposed he just looked fucking suspicious to people. He supposed he just had that sort of face, not that he was going to do anything about it like the Ootori bastard. After all, there was a reason why he always seems to slink back to Kaoru, and Hikaru just _knew_ his little brother was being taken advantage of. Besides, anyway you looked at it, you couldn't call the relationship healthy.

Speaking of, the last thing Hikaru wanted to hear as he stepped passed the woodworm-marked doorway was those fucking _moans_ accompanied with the sound of rusty bed springs. He was going to kill him one of these days, he really was – but for now, his jaw and teeth clenched tightly as he almost threw the duffle bag down on the dusty sofa.

If he weren't already tired and pissed, he probably would've just gone out again, not wanting to subject himself to hearing his own brother fuck his "boyfriend" into the mattress. However, he'd had a _long night_ , and he just wanted to relax in his own god damn house.

He hammered on the thin wall between the living area and the bedroom he and his brother shared, a growl working its way into his words. "Put your clothes back on, both of you!" He huffed, face like thunder, "I'm sure your _lovely_ heart would fetch a lot Kyoya, so don't fucking push it!"

He went to the small fridge in their tiny "kitchen" – said fridge and a microwave – and grabbed some expensive looking bubbly that Kyoya had obviously brought. He supposed there were some benefits to putting up with him. That, and Kaoru's happiness, when they weren't fighting about some little blue vials. The top cracked open with that satisfying sound that told him he was the first to get to it, and he just chugged straight from the bottle.

That basically summed up his feelings about the last few hours.

"Wow, what crawled up your ass and died?" Kaoru commented dryly as he entered the room, giving him a disapproving look, "We were having fun; there's bars elsewhere if you just wanted to get shitfaced –"

"That cost money we can't afford to give, not in this shithole," Hikaru challenged, passing the bottle to his brother, who took a more respectable swig, "I just want to be able to come home and not hear the sound of you two shooting your goo, can you blame me?"

"Aren't you classy," Kaoru sighed, running a hand through his mussed hair, "I just like enjoying the time we get to spend together, and I didn't hear you come in. Thought you were supposed to be out until eleven, anyway?"

"Well, your boyfriend's father decided that I'd look better with some bullet holes," He waved off, "It was too dangerous to stay around there, so I thought I'd cut it short. Speaking of, is _his majesty_ going to grace a commoner like me with his presence, or is he too high to walk straight?"

"He's not that bad, and you know it," Kaoru cut in before he could say anything else, mouth pulled in a thin line as he looked away. A little close to the nerve, too insensitive, and it drew an apology from Hikaru. After all, he didn't want to hurt Kaoru, quite the opposite; he was just mad at Kyoya, really, "He's just, you know… _Cleaning up_."

"Ew," He grimaced, never wanting _that_ image to come to mind ever again.

They both did manage to settle down after that, however; Hikaru always was calmer around his brother. It wasn't great that he'd have to deal with the spoiled brat, but he could handle it without killing the guy… For now. Instead, he and Kaoru just spent a few minutes chatting about what had gone down in the last few hours, passing the bottle between them and laughing at Yoshio Ootori's security guards.

"Getting drunk without me?" Came a silky voice from the doorway, Kyoya's plastic perfect lips quirked in a smile as he crossed the small room, throwing his arms around Kaoru's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his cheek, "And I was so nice to bring you a bottle of the good stuff."

"And yet you didn't even bother to get dressed properly," Hikaru groused, giving Kyoya's outfit a pointed glance. The shorts were far too short, showing off fishnets held up with garter belts and far too much skin for his tastes. It's not like the shirt was particularly conservative either, unbuttoned enough to show off that damn scar for all to see.

"I _am_ dressed," Kyoya huffed, "I have to look good, you know what my position in the Ootori group is, and my clothes reflect that. Not that you'd know anything about that."

Hikaru wrinkled his nose at Kyoya's obviously disgusted motion to his coat. Sure, it wasn't fashionable, and it offended his own sense of taste, but it was practical and did the job. What did it matter if it was patched with odd bits of fabric and he couldn't really remember what had made all those stains. Okay, the jacket was bad, but he wasn't going to take that from _him_.

"Well, at least I don't look like you could hang a sign around my neck saying _daddy's little hooker_ ," He quipped, delighting in the fact that Mr Cool had actually raised a hand to slap him, and would have if Kaoru hadn't caught his wrist just in time.

"Will you two lay off," Kaoru sighed, sounding far too tired, letting go of Kyoya's wrist and scrubbing a hand over his eyes, "I just wanted a nice evening before I had to go out, not watching you both fight. Bury the fucking hatchet for an hour, Jesus…"

"Sorry Kaoru," Kyoya apologised first, Hikaru grunting something similar. The taller boy's gaze was on the floor momentarily, and Hikaru was surprised to see him look so… openly regretful. It was then that he opened his mouth once more, and whatever slight respect had budded was soon cut down, "I better go, you know my surgeons don't like waiting…"

He tottered over to the duffle bag on the sofa, unzipping it and removing a glowing, blue vial from inside. Hikaru scoffed, teeth gritting when he saw Kaoru's concerned look. "You just helping yourself now?" He challenged, "What do you even have to change anyway? You're basically all plastic as it is."

" _Hikaru_ …"

"For your information, I'm getting my corneas done," Kyoya informed, voice lilting and actually somewhat civil, twirling the vial of Zydrate between his fingers, "Besides, I paid for this earlier, right Kaoru?"

"Yeah, I heard you _paying for it_."

"With money, jackass," Kyoya snapped, giving Kaoru a quick kiss before turning to leave, hips swaying as he walked like some catwalk model. Really, who did that guy think he is? After all, Kyoya's big dream wasn't taking over the company or anything, but being a singer; like Blind Ranka. Still, he strutted about like he owned the place, which just annoyed the hell out of Hikaru.

"See you later, Kaoru. I love you…"

And with that, the bastard was gone. They sat in silence for a moment, Kaoru's fingers drumming on the side of the glass bottle before he sighed, standing up and picking up their other duffle bag from beside their fridge.

"Well, there's no point sticking around, I might as well go out now," Kaoru shrugged, shouldering the bag and grabbing his own shitty coat from the rack, "Don't wait up."


	2. 21st Century Cure

The streetlights around the cemetery never worked, and no one ever came to fix them. The sketchy side streets seemed so much more dangerous when they were so poorly lit, but it was the safest way to get to the cemetery across town, which was one of the best places to get their Zydrate. After all, what was the danger of Yoshio Ootori when poverty and starvation were more painful, drawn-out deaths. Besides, if Kyoya could help take his father's attention away, then he would; it's something you do for someone you love...

Or something you love, he thought bitterly, despite the fact he knew Kyoya wasn't like that. Kyoya was an addict, yes, but he wasn't when they met and they fell in love before he was plastic perfect. Perhaps it was partly out of guilt, also; he was the one to give Kyoya his first taste of the blue vial. He'd just hated to see the boy lying there, face bandaged and almost crying out in pain because of how much it hurt.

It just started a downward spiral. More surgeries, more Zydrate, and he watched as Kyoya's soft face turned to defined cheekbones, the slight bump of his nose being restructured into something smaller, apparently "cuter". If you looked at Kyoya's old photos, you wouldn't recognise him, but... that was the point, however much Kaoru hated it. Now, his eyes were going to change, too.

He was something close to angry when he thought about all of the things Kyoya wanted to replace. His heart was damaged for years, an operation every few weeks as valves decayed and holes appeared. However, that designer heart still beat with common blood, so why the hell did everyone want him to show it off?

Maybe Hikaru had a point when he said Kyoya looked like _daddy's little hooker_?

He shook the thought away, berating himself for being such a crappy boyfriend in that moment. Kyoya said it himself; in his position, it paid to look a certain way. His outfits were fashionable, they showed off his thin frame and porcelain skin, they drew attention to him. He was only the fourth child, and that made his boyfriend something of an attention seeker, but it wasn't bad. Kaoru liked seeing him in those outfits...

He squeezed through the bars of the cemetery easily, buttoning his black coat up further. His breath fogged in the cold, late night air, and he mused that he might be able to see the outline of a star or two beyond the red glow of light pollution. A nice night, and he was thankful it was dry, even if it was freezing; that was what layers were for.

He strolled around, trying to pick where to dig first. He had to be careful of guards, of course; the PA system announcing "Grave robbers will be shot on sight" as a stark reminder. It was the only warning you got if you were dumb enough or, like he and his brother, desperate enough to do this shit.

Of course, Kyoya had offered him a way out, but... Well, daddy dearest certainly wouldn't approve, and Kaoru wasn't writhing in agonising guilt over this. People threw away perfectly good organs and Zydrate, almost like the world wasn't still in crisis. Hell, in a world where Yoshio fucking Ootori couldn't give their child a full, new heart for years because of the shortage, then what hope did poor schmucks like him and his brother have?

"I'll be quick..."

Kaoru jumped when he heard muttering coming from inside one of the crypts, because that would just about cap the disaster of a dying world they lived in; zombies. Still, he was curious; and you know what they say about that, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back.

"I'll just... catch it, and run back inside..." The voice continued. It was soft, almost sweet. There was something melodic in there, behind a slight raspy edge. Whoever it was sounded young, too.

He ducked behind a gravestone, but still began to dig so he could at least say he was being productive, watching as the door slowly creaked open. There was a warm glow from inside, so the voice obviously had some kind of light; but why would anyone hole themselves up in a place like that?

A tall, skinny boy with blond hair crept out of the stone building, the slightest sheen of sweat on his face and his lip clenched hard between his teeth. Yeah, it really was nothing to be afraid of. The kid had a tremor running through his shoulders, and was obviously more scared of everything than Kaoru would ever be of someone that scrawny and sickly-looking.

He couldn't make out the title of the book the kid hugged close to his chest, but it was thick. Some sort of encyclopaedia, perhaps? He wasn't sure, but for now he just kept an eye on the blond as he went about his work.

The kid suddenly pounced, however, the jar in the other hand making clinking noises as the glass clashed against the stone of the grave marker, trapping some kind of bug. So that was what he was after. Kind of a gross hobby, if you ask him, but he was literally digging up a corpse, so he couldn't really judge. Each to their own, and all that.

Kaoru fucked up. It wasn't long before he realised that he was digging right into a trap - literally - but he couldn't do anything about it as the alarms went off and he heard the marching of heavy boots in the too-near distance. Shit. Seems like even Kyoya couldn't help him; but to be fair to his boyfriend, he had warned Kaoru about the traps being placed around to prevent grave robbing... He should have been more careful.

The kid ran straight back to the door he came out of, only for it to close in his face. He pounded on the wood, howled to be let in like some kind of dog, citing over and over again that he - apparently - "couldn't be outside". Did he get grounded or something? Whatever, if they didn't hide fast, then they'd both be pumped full of bullet holes by Ootori-san's delightful guards.

"Hey, dude," He called, though he kept his voice down, trying to be subtle, "Follow me."

Not that he knew where he was going either, but hey. Better than sticking around. He seemed to take the hint too, as he followed without hesitation. Kaoru's feet hit the ground so hard that he swore he could feel shocks of dull ache winding up his legs from the soles of his feet, despite his heavy boots. He ran as fast as he could, but kept visual on the blond. The kid obviously wasn't that fit - panting and huffing as he sprinted along - but adrenaline seemed to be doing its thing.

He scanned the area, trying to look for a way out - he'd take anything at this point. Still, it would be hard going; Yoshio's security meant that everything was shut tighter than the man's asshole. He tried to brush away the thought that these were likely his last moments, trying to focus on actual survival rather than overthinking.

It seemed some deity was listening to his prayers, however, when he spotted a door in the wall. It seemed like it was mostly meant to be concealed, but there was the barest outline there - you wouldn't see it unless you were looking for it, which he was.

He rammed his shoulder into the door, letting out a small grunt of combined pain and effort before trying again. And again. And again.

"Are you just going to fucking stand there kid, or are you going to help?" He snapped at the boy, wide eyes staring out from behind his mussed fringe. Now Kaoru was closer... was that a wig?

"I... I don't think I can..." The boy began, almost a whisper, but he was soon interrupted by a loud crack from the door. Better late than never, Kaoru guessed, but he still gave the kid a half-hearted glare for just standing there.

The smell was rancid, but the sight that greeted him... Well, it was like walking into a mine to find the walls encrusted with diamonds. Bodies piled high, almost floor to ceiling. Gutted, naked, laying there in this little stash, waiting to be found. He couldn't help the smirk that quirked his lips when he thought of all the Zydrate he could get from here. It went without saying, all the money that would make.

"Jackpot," He breathed, almost disbelieving, while the kid only let out a choked noise of shock. Well, this wasn't everyone's cup of tea; or, more aptly, bread and butter. Everyone had to make a living somehow, and apparently Hikaru and he had been missing out on a veritable goldmine.

"This... This can't be real..." The kid muttered, sounding absolutely horrified; as if he'd been living under a rock for years and had no idea what the state of the world was, "This can't actually be happening... Right?"

As Kaoru opened his mouth to reply that, yes, this was very real, the guards finally crashed their little party by physically grabbing the poor kid and dragging him out by the armpits, kicking and screaming. The shitty thing was, Kaoru hadn't had any opportunity to get some Zydrate. Still, his life was more important than drugs. He just had to remember where this spot was so he could hit it next time.

He was fucked now, though. No way out. This was it, and Hikaru and Kyoya would be left alone, which wasn't fair on either of them. Son of a bitch… If Kyoya weren't getting his corneas sliced, then he could call off the dogs, but that wasn't an option.

It got very quiet, all except for a digital voice stating "medicate immediately". No sounds from the guards, no sounds from the kid. It was like they'd all dropped dead then and there. More Zydrate for him, he supposed, but it was beyond fucking creepy.

Kaoru poked his head around the busted in door, cautiously trying to survey the scene without drawing attention to himself, only to get the shock of his life. What the fuck was a Repo man doing out here, and what did he want with the kid? The blond was so sickly looking, it wouldn't make sense for him to have everything in working order. Even Kyoya, who liked to look as put together as possible, looked like hell when his heart went into failure after failure, arrest after arrest.

Still, there it was. The tall man carrying the limp boy like a doll, arms hanging limp and head cricked back at what looked like an awkward angle. Still, there was something undoubtably… tender about the way Repo held the kid…

He wasn't going to run after them – he wasn't suicidal – but… maybe he could ask Kyoya to do a little digging. Satisfy that niggling curiosity.


	3. Harsh Light of Sobriety

Kyoya awoke feeling as if a truck slammed into him, low and pissed after the pleasant haze of the Zydrate had worn off. For fucks sake, he wasn't in the mood to be sober, not with the noise that he could hear down the corridor. It was Akito's usual, screaming profanities until he got his way, everyone ignoring him. Their father was too busy to deal with him, Yuuichi too tired, and Akito didn't grate on his own nerves so much when everything was pleasantly hazy.

Muttering his own curses as he lifted the plush duvet that had been laid over his frame, standing on shaking legs, he figured that if the idiot wouldn't shut his mouth then he'd have to shut it for him. His silk dressing gown was tied quickly around his thin waist, covering the shorts and lacy camisole he'd worn to sleep. The scar on his chest was on show, red stark against his snow-white skin, but when wasn't it? He couldn't care less about it at this point.

He stormed down the hall, teeth gritted as he made his way to the living room, enjoying the mental image of tearing Akito's guts out. As he got closer, he could distinguish what was being said more clearly, not that he wanted to. "I ordered _tea_ , you little slut!" and "I'll fucking kill you if you serve me this rat piss again!"

Slamming the double doors open, allowing the maid to escape out the other door at the other side of the room, fingertips pressed to a gash on her cheek, blood staining her uniform. Akito threw the cup after her, china shattering as it hit the doorframe, a squeak of fright coming from the other room.

"Stop bitching!" Kyoya yelled, getting Akito's attention, finally. Yuuichi was still sitting on the sofa, thumbing through his book, not paying attention to his brother being a prick, "Where the fuck is dad?"

Akito glared at him, marching over with that "I'm gonna put you in the hospital" look on his face. "If you weren't getting your freaky new eyes or whatever, then you'd know he's with the doctor, you little whore –"

Akito actually shut his mouth when Kyoya slammed his fist into his dick, thank Christ. He just sank to the floor with a few pained groans, Kyoya delicately stepping around him. "Cunt," He spat.

"Just fuck already," Yuuichi grunted, a huff of laughter accompanying the words, and Kyoya just made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, "Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the crack den today. It's midday, anyway; not like it's early in the morning."

"It's a product _we sell_ , you know," He waved off, "And if you didn't notice –"

"Who couldn't notice," Akito coughed, struggling to his feet once more. He could never take a taste of his own medicine, "They're so… garish. Just when I thought you couldn't find anything else to get ripped out and replaced."

"Want another punch in the dick?" Kyoya deadpanned, hands on his hips as he turned back to Yuuichi, "Why's dad with the doctor, anyway? He's fine."

Akito and Yuuichi both pinned him with incredulous stares, before shaking their heads. Kyoya had no clue what that was all about, and it looked as if he wasn't going to get an answer as Yuuichi closed his book, standing and returning it to the shelf.

"Well, we better get to work," He stated, the temperature in the room seeming to plummet, the tone of his voice cold as ice, "You should go meet Ranka for your lesson, and Haruhi's probably searching all over for you by now."

"Yeah, sure," He shrugged, taking his cue to return to his room. His brothers really could be bastards…

* * *

Yoshio observed his physician as the man looked over the biopsy results, brows drawn together. Another look, just to make sure, he'd said. It was ambiguous, but he still felt the thrum of anxiety under his skin, waiting for the man to finish his deliberations and hopefully give him his verdict.

It was worrying, his constant migraines, but he hadn't thought too much off it until he collapsed in front of his kids. He could still remember Yuuichi, Akito and Fuyumi's faces when he came to, helping his sit up and asking him the usual question; name, location, age. Kyoya was just frozen on the sofa, looking dazed.

He knew he had to get it checked out then, for the sake of his kids.

"Well, Ootori-san, I'm afraid it's rather grim news," His physician sighed, removing his glasses and wiping them with the edge of his lab coat, "The tumours are cancerous, not to mention too dangerous to remove. I'm afraid… There's not many options. We can try Chemotherapy, but the odds aren't looking good."

Cancer? Terminal?

Yoshio hung his head, the physician's reassurances washing over him like white noise. What was he going to do? He needed more time to get his affairs in order, everything messy and complicated, and beyond that… He was going to die.

 _You deserve it_ , part of him murmured, and while he agreed, death was terrifying. An end of an era; the man who saved the globe crippled by his own grey matter, and it wasn't like there was a transplant to save him. Brains were a person's entirety, and therefore couldn't be replaced. It wasn't a heart, or a liver, that he could so easily provide… This was it.

"Thank you," He murmured, raising his head once more, face impassive, "I'll call you if I have any concerns, but for now… I think it's best to run its course. Nature does sometimes know best, after all."

The physician was clearly shocked by the decision, but simply nodded, sliding the paperwork into his briefcase and nodding to him before turning on his heel. The door closed with a heavy echo, reverberating around the almost cavernous room, the only noise to accompany his thoughts.

 _You reap what you sow, after all_ …


End file.
